


Killer Addiction

by Wildroserogue



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Assassin AU, M/M, Sexual Attraction, Sexual Tension, but mido is smitten so its ok, civilian!takao, midotaka - Freeform, sniper!midorima, takao has no sense of self preservation, taunting an assassin is a bad idea, very slight mentions of drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24456940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wildroserogue/pseuds/Wildroserogue
Summary: Waking up handcuffed to a bed in a completely unfamiliar room was not how Takao expected his first day of work to go.Or, Midorima kidnaps a pretty civilian on impulse while he's on a job. He proves to be a little too much to handle.
Relationships: Midorima Shintarou/Takao Kazunari
Comments: 4
Kudos: 62





	Killer Addiction

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by [five times love was inevitable](https://archiveofourown.org/works/563728) by the talented JeanSouth! Unfortunately, although I contacted her for permission to write a oneshot based off her fic, she appears to be on hiatus at the moment. If she ever sees this, I hope she likes it!

Midorima waits, patiently, as the group of men sit themselves at their meeting table. All the unworthy men he was sent to take care of are here at this meeting today, conveniently sat there for him to finish off all at one go. He takes his time calculating exactly how long he would need to load and reload his poison-tipped darts for eight shots, and the angles he would have to aim from to hit each man through the single glass window they had stupidly left open.

Eight men, discounting that one hyperactive assistant who _wouldn't stop moving._ He's small, and constantly in motion, shuffling papers, passing around coffee mugs and the like. If Midorima timed his shots wrong, he might end up poisoning the assistant instead of his actual targets.

Through the scope of his rifle, he sees the raven-haired assistant smile brightly ( _like a sunbeam,_ his brain supplies unhelpfully) at something one of the men says, and darts across the room to bring a document to him. Midorima's finger twitches on the trigger. He's tempted to just shoot the assistant too and be done with it, but as a point of personal pride he only ever kills corrupt men. The assistant had not been on his list. And if he was honest with himself, he'd consider it a waste to kill off someone with such a pretty face, annoyingly perky as he was.

Mind made up, he switches out his first poison dart with a tranquilizer, aims, and hits the raven-haired assistant in the neck without any trouble. It takes approximately 30 seconds before the raven drops the papers he's holding and crumples to the ground unconscious. The remaining men stare at him in shock, but that's all they are able to do before Midorima darts them all individually and they collapse face-down in their seats, dead. He only takes another few minutes to disassemble his rifle, cross the road to the office building and enter the top floor with a card he lifted from one of the staff. 

He carefully collects all his used darts from the bodies sprawled across the room, then jabs the assistant in the leg with an adrenaline shot. He jerks awake with a bleary "huh?", and Midorima allows himself a moment to think _"shit, that's kind of cute"_ before he quickly drags the assistant out of the building and pushes him into a cab. The adrenaline shot will wear off soon enough, and the smaller male is already passed out again on his shoulder by the time Midorima hauls him into his hotel room. He's heavier than he looks, and the reason is clear when Midorima removes his clothes to reveal a lean, muscled body before depositing him in the king-sized bed. 

Midorima sits down at the chair facing the bed, and waits.

~~~

Waking up handcuffed to a bed in a completely unfamiliar room was not how Takao expected his first day of work to go. 

Utterly confused, he sits up in the bed - a king size, and realises that he's also been stripped to only his boxers - before he freezes upon seeing a green-haired man sitting at the table opposite him, cleaning a gun.

In the back of Takao's mind, he knows who this must be - there have been rumours among the corporate businessmen lately, of a sniper assassin who kills with poisoned darts shot from impossibly far distances, striking fear into the hearts of the corrupt - and his fragmented memories dredge up images of his bosses collapsed over the meeting table, foaming at the mouth with unseeing eyes. Joy.

The assassin is still meticulously cleaning pieces of his gun with a small cloth, but his eyes flick up silently to meet Takao's. His irises are green, like his hair, and Takao immediately notices that he has eyelashes longer and prettier than any other male he knows. There's also a strange, metallic smell in the air, which Takao assumes is gun oil.

"You woke up earlier than I expected." The assassin's voice is deep, and carries the polished tones that spoke of someone who had received high education. "You weren't supposed to be conscious for another -" the assassin glances at a watch on his wrist, frowning, "-twenty-two minutes."

"Eh. Former drug user. Reformed, of course," Takao says flippantly, shrugging - or tries to, before he remembers he's restricted by the handcuffs. That brings him quickly back to the reality of his current situation, and he quietens, watching the assassin warily. But all the green-haired man offers is a thoughtful "hmm", before returning his attention to the gun parts in front of him.

Takao watches him clean in silence for a few more minutes, a million questions thundering through his head. Why did the assassin bring him here? Why wasn't he dead like the rest of his bosses were? He hadn't known they were corrupt, of course, but - did the assassin want him for something? Or was he going to play with him slowly until he died from torture? His captor didn't exactly look like the crazy, sadistic kind, but Takao hadn't stayed alive this long by judging books by their covers. The assassin finally finishes cleaning, and neatly reassembles the gun parts. He looks down at the rifle in his lap, sighs quietly, and looks back up at Takao. They stay that way for a while, watching the other.

"... Are you going to kill me?" Takao finally asks, straightening his posture as much as the handcuffs allowed, and willing himself not to tremble. If he was going to die here, he was going to die with dignity - or with as much dignity as he had clad only in his boxers, anyway, not screaming and begging for his life like the people in those trashy horror films he's watched.

The neutral expression on the assassin's face melts into affronted shock, and it would have been funny if Takao hadn't still been genuinely afraid for his life.

"Of course I'm not going to _kill you_ , what kind of idiot -" the assassin stops and takes a deep breath, as if to calm himself, and adjusts the glasses on his nose with his left hand. Takao notes that, interestingly, the fingers of his left hand are taped but not his right. "I only accept jobs that involve the assassination of corrupt men," the assassin explains instead. "You weren't on my list today." _But you could be_ , his eyes seem to say, and Takao decides to speak up before the taller male came to any conclusion of his own.

"You kidnapped me on my first day of work, of the first real job I've had in years. I haven't exactly had the time to skim profits from the business or make shady under-the-table deals with the yakuza," he points out. 

The green-haired man scrutinises him for another moment, then lets out a small huff that Takao interprets as laughter. "I suppose not. An idiot who thinks that an assassin took the trouble of bringing him to his hotel room unharmed in order to _kill him_ wouldn't be capable of hiding his corrupt activities, anyway."

"Hey, I take offense to that! I could _totally_ be a badass corrupt leader if I wanted to be, alright? And, hang on, if you didn't bring me here to kill me, then what did you want with me?" 

"..."

The assassin adjusted his glasses again, but Takao is quickly realising that he only did that to hide his expression, and now that he knew what to look for - was… was the assassin _blushing?_

In a sudden flash of understanding, Takao yanks the covers up over his mostly-naked body, feeling instantly like the helpless damsel in every single spy movie he's ever watched. "Don't tell me - you brought me here for a _fuck_?" 

The assassin makes a pained sound and lowers his hand from his face, scowling. "Don't say it like that," he growls. "It's not like you're- you're a _prostitute_ , or anything. I've had lovers before. I know how to treat them properly."

Takao gives a pointed glance at the handcuffs that are still chaining him to the bed. "Uh, yeah, sure, you _clearly_ know how to make a guy feel loved. Unless this is a kink of yours? I prefer the pink, furry kind myself though, this is a little too hardcore for me," he says, giving the metal handcuffs a demonstrative shake. 

The assassin makes another pained sound, kind of like a dying whale, and Takao feels the weirdest urge to giggle. Years of living on the streets have taught him how to read people fairly well, and he's certain now that, sans the gun, Mr. Tall-and-Green here really doesn't mean him any harm. With how out of his depth he looks, Takao's even willing to bet money that he was lying about having lovers before. It was pretty cute, actually. "You were an exceptional situation," the green-haired male defends petulantly, looking more and more like he's starting to regret his decision. 

And _that_ won't do, because now that the threat of immediate death isn't looming over his head, Takao can turn his attention to other things. Namely, that the assassin is in fact an insanely attractive man, with features that look like they belonged on a marble statue, and the greenest eyes Takao has ever seen on any human being. Having sex with the gorgeous assassin who kidnapped him just hours after murdering his bosses wasn't exactly the worst decision he's ever made in his life, if he was being honest. 

He takes a steadying breath, then smiles, as seductively as he can, at the other male. The pupils in the assassin's green eyes instantly dilate, and, _well._ If that wasn't flattering, Takao's not sure what is. "My name's Takao Kazunari," he says, easily. "If we're gonna fuck -" and the way the assassin twitches at the word will never not be funny, Takao's illogically amused by this guy - "could I at least get the name of the guy whose dick I'm gonna have up my ass? Or vice versa if you prefer it that way, I'm not picky." The assassin flushes red enough to resemble a tomato, and it's cute, _he's_ cute, Takao can't believe that he's thinking of a trained killer as _cute_.

"...Midorima. Midorima Shintarou," the assassin replies, after a pause. He gives Takao a suspicious look. "You suddenly seem extremely comfortable with your situation, given how afraid you were that I was about to kill you just now."

"But now I know you're _not_ going to kill me, and on top of that, you think I'm hot, so excuse a guy for having his ego boosted," Takao says cheerily. 

Midorima (Takao immediately decides to call him Shin-chan in his head, instead) stares at him for a long moment. "You really _are_ an idiot," he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. In a sudden movement, he stands, propping the rifle up against his shoulder and advances towards the bed, eyes locked on Takao. Like a deer caught in the headlights, Takao remains frozen in place, unable to do anything but watch as the assassin moves closer. Shin-chan stops directly in front of him, and leans down until his face is right beside Takao’s, close enough that the fabric of his suit jacket brushes against the raven’s nose.

"I could kill a man 17 different ways with this pillow," Shin-chan says softly, _dangerously_ , reaching out to finger the pillow behind Takao's head. “Do you understand?” He looks at him then, and the assassin’s gaze is dark when he meets Takao's eyes. The raven swallows thickly.

"If you’re still not comprehending, let me spell it out for you now; I am not making you an _offer_. You are in no position to refuse, since you are currently completely at my mercy. You really ought to be more scared, _Takao Kazunari_ ," the assassin finishes, straightening again. But if he's trying to threaten him, it's not working. If anything, Takao finds himself impossibly turned on by Shin-chan's words, and he thinks it must say something about how screwed up in the head he is that the idea of being completely at the assassin’s mercy sounds more like a promise than a warning. 

Not trusting himself to speak, Takao nods wordlessly, and Shin-chan seems to accept it as compliance. He's still eyeing him suspiciously though, as if he can't quite believe that Takao is giving in so easily, even as he braces one knee against the bed. 

"And just so we're clear," Shin-chan says, "you've got nowhere to run either, so if that's what you're thinking, don't be a fool and discard the thought."

"Why? Because you'll hypothetically kill me with a pillow if I tried?" Takao answers reflexively, because he has absolutely no sense of self-preservation and enjoys antagonising scowly, attractive green-haired killers, which isn't helped at all by the fact that all the blood in his brain has already migrated south.

Unperturbed, Shin-chan merely raises a neatly-groomed brow at him. "Because you're in my room, handcuffed to my bed, and I'm holding a gun," he says, pointedly.

"And I'm rightfully terrified," is Takao's immediate response, and he's not lying, not really. A tiny part of him is still afraid he's going to end up dead after this encounter, but more than that, he's scared by how much he _wants_ this, that the man's confident grip on the gun makes him think about Shin-chan's sure fingers wrapped around _him,_ instead, and how the acrid scent of gun oil still lingering in the air is making him practically salivate.

Shin-chan looks unconvinced at his answer, but nods slowly anyway, a sign of acquiesce. "So you are… Agreeable, to this arrangement?" The green-haired man questions, and for the first time, he sounds unsure.

Takao has no such concerns. " _G_ _od,_ yes," he says, hooking his fingers into the belt loops on Shin-chan's trousers and tugging him forward.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it, and I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! As mentioned in the notes above, this fic is inspired by the midotaka snippet in [five times love was inevitable](https://archiveofourown.org/works/563728).
> 
> Come talk to me about Midotaka on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/wildroserogue)!


End file.
